


The Route to a Happy Ending Takes Time

by Pyroflower20



Category: AI: The Somnium Files (Video Game)
Genre: Body Dysphoria, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, contains spoilers for entire game, no beta we die like saito
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27772699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyroflower20/pseuds/Pyroflower20
Summary: The first sign that this isn’t going to be an easy transition is when Date sees his reflection in the bathroom, yelps, and slips on the tile in surprise.OrDate deals with the repercussions of prolonged body swaps and the concept of parallel worlds.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 43





	The Route to a Happy Ending Takes Time

**Author's Note:**

> When I finished this game I knew I had to write a fan-fic for it. Again, this story contains spoilers for all routes, and the true route in the first two sentences. So please finish the game, or if your thinking of playing it, come back to this story later! It'll still be here. Fantastic game and wonderful characters. Hopefully I did them some justice.

It has been about forty-eight hours since Aiba self-destructed and reduced Saito Seijima’s skull to the fireworks that he preferred so much. After getting Mizuki checked into the hospital for the wound in her thigh ( _one look at her face and he knows he won’t be allowed to stay another night at the hospital)_ and wrapping up as much of the situation as possible with Boss back at ABIS, Date headed back to his apartment. 

The click of the apartment door behind him was deafening. Despite the grief and concern that would keep him up any other night, Date crashed face first onto the couch and passed out quickly as the adrenaline faded from his system. There was nothing he could do but wait to check on Mizuki and follow up with Boss in the morning on any changes in the case and hope to whatever gods existed that this mess improved soon.

When he wakes the next morning, the first sign that this isn’t going to be an easy transition is when Date sees his reflection in the bathroom, yelps ( _he refuses to admit it’s a yelp because that is not a noise that any man should make_ ) and slips on the tile in surprise. He had just gone to the bathroom to clean up from yesterday and was surprised to see Prisoner-Fal-Yagyu ( _shit that’s his_ ) face rather than Date’s ( _Saito’s_ ) face in the reflection. It takes a moment for him to collect his thoughts and remember that this _is_ his original body. One he hasn’t been in for a little over six years. It shouldn’t be that hard to get used to. ( _He won’t feel fear at the sight of his reflection ever again. Right? Right.)._

What should be a normal morning affair turns into vague frustration. When Date moves to pull his hair back, he’s met with air and is reminded of the shorter cut and darker color. His joints crack more often than they did before – more likely just the type of body he has rather than age ( _the joint stiffness is definitely not from age_ ) - and there is a light ache in his left knee that is most definitely permanent if the new ( _old_ ) scar is anything to go by ( _not a clue where it came from, he wonders if it was from one of the people he tried to kill as an assassin)_. He realizes the problems are far from over once he enters the kitchen.

In order to keep Mizuki from drinking too much coffee, Date makes it difficult for her to access by putting the coffee on the top shelf of the cabinet (s _he climbs on the counter and gets it anyways. He knows this because every now and then there are two cups with coffee stains in the sink by the time he gets home for the day_ ). That said, its only difficult for the gremlin, Date has no problems reaching it with his height. So while he skims through the social media updates on his phone with his one hand and goes for the coffee tin with the right, he’s surprised to find the box of cereal from the middle shelf in his hand. Date looks up from his phone, places the cereal back on the shelf and tries again only to realize that he isn’t tall enough to grab the middle of the tin like normal. He just grazes the underside of the shelf guarding the sacred ground beans _._ The coffee tin is successfully grabbed after Date stands on the balls of his feet and he lets out a sigh of relief knowing a step-stool didn’t have to be involved. The situation wasn’t a big deal, but it’s still _different_ and too much to deal with when he just wants to have a normal day. His frustration doubles when he finally makes his usual black coffee and finds it too _bitter_. He reluctantly adds sugar with a grimace.

These little adjustments coupled with the fact that he must adapt to a standard glass eye again who is not a very fun conversationalist ( _his heart drops when he realizes no one will respond_ ) leaves him more aggravated than not over the next week and a half. The highlight of this time period is early on when he gets a call that Mizuki can be released from the hospital with only a few stitches and can finally rest at home ( _and hopefully distract him from these stupid problems_ ). Date notices something wrong with Mizuki after he turns the key in the ignition and starts driving back to the apartment. The start of the drive home is filled with silence and a hard, impassive stare from his roommate. It’s only after he gets on the highway that he notices the discomfort of the stare has not ceased, so he relents. The effort it takes to turn so his right eye gets a good look at her expression without crashing the car should be enough to tell her to cut it out, but it isn’t.

“What are you staring at?” The gravely sound of his voice is still surprising at points. It causes his grip on the steering wheel to tighten.

“What does you think I’m staring at? The sky? I’m staring at you, old man.”

“Alright, _why_ are you staring at me?” Mizuki mumbles something he can’t hear. Date questions her two more times before she tells him too loudly, causing him to swerve in his lane slightly from surprise.

“Because your different, stupid! This is crazy, but you’re the only one dumb enough to get caught in this kind of situation. It’s not like I’m going to just nod and agree to everything like the girls in those anime you like! You’re lucky I was there to even follow half of this screwed up situation!” She looks out the front window and kicks her feet against the bottom of her seat. His thoughts are split on trying to calm her down while the other half wants to tell her not to take out her feelings on his car. Date tries to do the former when she continues after a deep breath, “I just need time, okay? I’ll be fine.”

It doesn’t take long to realize exactly how much time Mizuki will need to adjust. When Date goes to wake her the next morning a shout is his only warning before he’s launched back into the couch from a punch to the gut. Mizuki is halfway through working on something that’s supposed to be an apology by the time Date can stop groaning in pain and questioning his life choices. However, when she says it’s his own fault for getting hit, he starts to think she has amnesia of some kind because she obviously doesn’t remember that he’s been waking her up the same way for three years. Disregarding the fact that the person you apologize to isn’t the one who should be taking the blame. ( _It takes Date half of the day before he even considers Mizuki hit him because he no longer looks like the_ usual _Date. Considering he and Mizuki became roommates after he had switched with Saito it was no wonder that she punched him from a sleepy lack of recognition, but_ damnit _why is his kid the one blessed with ridiculous strength?_ ).

Over the next month and a half, Date deals with Mizuki’s remarks about the changes of his new ( _old)_ body.

“Not only are you uglier than usual, but your shorter too? You’re never gonna get a girlfriend at this rate.”

“Are those your bones making noise? How am I supposed to get any homework done if you’re _this_ loud without even talking?”

“…those scars are new, what, did you trip in fall down the stairs into a pile of knives? Probably got them all cause your so freakin’ stupid.” 

“Hey, this body saved your life you know,” Date refuses to let her win every time.

“Yeah. _After_ I got injured saving your stupid butt from Saito, idiot.”

The one time that Date jokes about how he’ll die sooner anyways since he’s twelve years older than Saito was leaves her with such a devastated expression so unlike Mizuki. It lasts for a single second before she gets angry and berates him for being an idiot that can’t even die correctly. The look on her face reminds him of what she sounded like while he was in the hospital for an injury that supposedly didn’t happen, and no one remembers. Date knows he isn’t wrong though, because the way Mizuki shuts up at the mention of being her hero tells him more than words ever could. She vehemently denies ever telling him that, **but when he was in the hospital and comatose from his injury all he could do was listen to the fact that Mizuki was safe and needs him now more than ever. He needs to wake up, but he _can’t_ and what happened to Aiba- **

* * *

The pair slowly falls back into a semblance of their old routine with only the occasional quip that something still isn’t _right_. Date begins to think they might have a chance at getting things back to normal if it weren’t for the dreams.

Outside of instances with Somnium, Date has never been much one to remember or put much stock into dreams. Residual fragments of strong feelings are all that’s left over the next morning. Those feelings are the only indicator that one has even taken place, but it doesn’t take long before they are forgotten entirely. When Date gets ridiculously good at remembering dreams, he chalks it up to something his original body could do better than Saito’s body. After a few weeks, the man admits it’s more of a problem then he expected.

A few times a week Date gets the dreams that he considers to be just that. Sure, they are based on memories he can recall, but the point of view is skewed. One instance has him seated in the interrogation room across from _himself_ in Saito’s body. He can’t hear anything regardless of whose mouth is moving, but every shift and bodily tic are performed in such detail that the man refuses to believe his own subconscious manifested it. 

Another dream has him reliving the night Hitomi almost died in her apartment. Instead of rushing up the stairs with Boss and breaking the door open, he’s invited in by Hitomi and the next thing he knows _he’s pulling the gun out of his jacket only for Rohan to burst through the door (this doesn’t make any sense) and accidentally shoot the very woman he was trying to get / **rid**_ / _of_ trying to **_protect_** in the first place.

While these dreams aren’t fun, Date will take them any day of the week compared to the alternative.

The alternative includes more disorienting dreams that have side-effects that carry through the next day. He knows exactly who he is in these dreams, but Date visibly recognizes that he is in the wrong body. In these dreams he is Rohan, Saito, or even **Boss _(the last one doesn’t make sense, but it feels like a truth. It was important)._** When he wakes up the feelings don’t fade as they should, and the detective is left with a feeling of wrongness the entire day. To make things worse – Date thinks that the shift between himself and Saito are bad – he is not prepared for the other two.

Waking up after dreaming of his time as Rohan Kumakura are the most vexing. The difference in physical size between Kumakura and Yagyuu was always impressive, but they are even more so when Date has to physically deal with it. These days leave the man feeling as if his skin is too tight and it _itches_. His gait is too small and his voice, posture, and mannerisms are all _wrong_. Date tries not to think about these issues too often because if he gets stuck in Rohan’s head, **he can almost remember what it felt like to remove the eyes from those beautiful women** and that is the last issue he needs to think about. The days he does in fact sink that low require a visit to Marble and calling Boss to see if she would be so “kind” as to drive him home.

Speaking of Shizue, the dreams Date has of her are much more infrequent, and do not consist of the type of material that he would prefer. To start with, they never have him scoring any bases with the lovely woman. Rather, they have _him_ as the lovely woman **_who has just gotten out of the psync machine with a broken leg only to get shot in his shoulder. Aiba stalled for time, but Date can tell he’s dying. Boss is dead along with everyone else so what does it matter. Maybe in a parallel world the case can be solved, and everyone is saved, but that doesn’t matter now because the last coherent thought he can put together before everything fades is who is going to take care of Miz-_**

Date hates dreams as Boss. Not because they make him feel too tall and the weight distributed on his body is in all the wrong places, or that he still feels the pain in his leg and shoulder when he wakes up. When his vision fades to black and when he gasps awake the man feels tears streaming down his cheeks from an invisible emotional weight. The emotional weight in Date’s chest is too much and when he tries to jump from the couch to check on Mizuki ( **he needs to make sure Saito didn’t get her too** ) he crumples from the pain of a broken fibula ( _that doesn’t happen)._

The commotion causes Mizuki to launch out of bed with pipe in hand. Her feet stutter on the floor for only a second before their steady for confrontation. “Whose there! Don’t think I won’t wreck you just because…Date?” The girl lowers her pipe and tries to wipe the sleep from her eyes to make sure she’s not imagining things. Her roommate-turned-sometimes-caretaker is trying to pull himself up from the floor with the hand that caught the corner of the coffee table. His breath is coming out in gasps and it takes what Mizuki knows is only a few seconds but feels like longer for the hazel eye to meet her own. A cold weight settles in her chest when she sees that Date is _crying._ “What’s wrong? Are you dying?!” 

She hesitantly walks over and kneels at his side, and it’s only after a quick scan of the apartment that the twelve-year-old lays down the pipe because there is no way she is going to be caught unawares in her own home ever again. Through this entire process her old man stops trying to get up. He’s no longer hyperventilating, but Date’s breathing is still hitching, and his eye looks unfocused. His hand on the table makes an abrupt, grabbing motion for his charge. It catches a pinch of the adorabbit pajama fabric on her knee. His hand keeps shaking. Mizuki is terrified because she doesn’t know what to do, but before she can act on her internal panic, Date whispers out, “Y-you’re alright?”

 _What._ She thinks. “What?” Mizuki deadpans out loud, because she sees the tears tracks on his face that lead to the stubble on his chin ( _she still hasn’t gotten used to it because the old Date hated facial hair, but she later found that he only hated it because he could never grow it out the way he liked and why is she thinking about this now stay_ focused) and she has never seen him cry outside of situations where he comes home drunk ( _even then he just tears up and talks gibberish about how he never wants to see a woman ever again)_ or when her life is in danger ( _Date had tears in his eyes the last time she was admitted into the hospital after everything with Saito had ended, but she still wonders if those emotions were for Aiba or for her)_.

“You’re safe?” His desperate query brings her back to focus, she vaguely notices that his voice actually _cracked_ before he continues, “Everyone is safe, right? You, Iris, Hitomi, Boss, Ota – everyone’s safe? No one’s dead?” By the end of Date’s short ramble, his grip on her tightened. She places her hand on top of his scarred and calloused one with half the intention of shoving it off, but her roommate ( _family)_ looked much more pathetic than usual that the Mizuki couldn’t will herself to do follow through. She tightened her grip on him.

“Of course I’m fine! I talked with Iris on the phone earlier tonight about how she was going to play a few hours of shovelforge with Ms. Sagan before she has to go to the hospital and prep for the surgery. I went to Sunfish Pocket for dinner and ran into Ota. He mentioned his jobs and how hardworking he is, but that it’s worth it since his mom is doing well. You were on the phone with Boss when you got home trying to figure out what it would take for her to not send that blackmail video of your drunk whining to the entire precinct. Oh, and I have that video too. Boss was nice enough to send it to me along with the email list of all your co-workers for whenever I think you’re getting too stupid and need a reminder to know your place.” Mizuki knows she’s rambling, but when she sees that Date’s breathing has started to even out and feels his fingers loosen their hold on her clothes the girl knows that _something_ is working.

“Good. That’s, uh, good. Really good.” With a solid _thunk_ , the detective’s forehead makes complete contact with the floor. “Sorry to wake you. Try and go back to bed. I’ll get up in a minute.” At the rate that his body is slowly relaxing into dead weight on the ground, Mizuki highly doubts he will.

“Like I’ll be able to just go to bed after this. This was stressful you know.”

“…Sorry. I’m glad…you’re…al…right.”

“It’s going to take more than a sorry to make up for this mess. You owe me stew for this – hey are you even listening?!” She stops to listen and can hear soft snores coming from the face shoved into the floor. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.” Mizuki lifts herself off the ground, taps him twice in the shoulder with her foot to confirm that yes – Date is not getting up from the floor anytime soon. The blue haired girl groans, loudly, as a last-ditch effort to wake him up. It doesn’t work. With a grumble, Mizuki decides to be the adult ( _she usually is, but this time the decision to leave him on the floor to complain about it in the morning is a very tempting one)_ and heft Date back onto the couch. It takes her longer than she’d like since the old man is taller than she is, but she manages to ungracefully flop Date on the couch. Realizing she won’t get any answers tonight, Mizuki shuffles back over the bed with the promise of giving Date hell in the morning when they both wake up. It takes her longer than she’d like to fall back asleep, but she eventually drifts off after hearing soft snores coming from the direction of the couch.

When Date wakes up the next morning he’s greeted to the sound of crackling and sizzling from the kitchen accompanied by the smell of eggs and bacon. He notices his body feels unnaturally stiff and his mouth is dry. A headache is starting to appear, so he gets up and snags the bottle of aspirin near his desk and padded across to the kitchen for a glass of water. As he’s filling it from the sink, Date notices that the coffee maker is filled with coffee and that a certain someone decided to get coffee down from where they weren’t supposed to. Again. The source of the morning goods is frowning at the eggs.

“Relax. The coffee isn’t for me, old man.” Mizuki states when he doesn’t move from his spot. “You were a mess last night, so I thought coffee would help you remember any verbal smackdowns I give you today.”

Date feels his face scrunch in confusion, “Huh?” he asks unhelpfully.

“ _’Huh?’_ Really? I know you’re stupid, but I didn’t think you were _this_ stupid. You started bawling like a baby for no reason saying ‘ _Mizuki, I’m such an idiot and I think everyone is deaaad!’,”_ she says, mockingly, in a voice that sounds nothing like him. He suddenly finds a hot spatula pointed an inch from his nose. “Then you passed out and I hauled your old, pathetic body on the couch. So, you owe me stew!”

With a frown from the increasing headache, he bats the spatula out of his face, and she returns it to the pan, “I don’t recall any of that happening.”

“Are you serious right now?”

“Course I’m serious! I don’t remem-ack,” a hand flies to his left temple. The headache strikes with a vengeance and almost leaves him nauseous. He takes a few deep breathes before continuing, “I-I don’t remember.” _( **He doesn’t want to remember** )._

“…are you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?” At this point Mizuki has already split the eggs and bacon into two plate servings. She picks one up and plops on her chair in the ‘living room’ before she starts eating.

“I’m sure. It’s probably just caffeine withdrawal. I’m sure the coffee will help faster than the aspirin is anyways.” He pours himself a cup of coffee and adds the required amount of cream and sugar before joining Mizuki. It’s not often that Mizuki cooks for the both of them in the mornings, so Date knows she’s worried about him. He thinks about respecting that as he tries a bite of the eggs. He chews once before performing a full body shudder and spitting the egg back out on the plate. Mizuki rightfully looks grossed out. To be fair, he wasn’t expecting that either.

“…”

“…”

“You did _not_ just do that.”

“uh…”

“There is nothing wrong with my cooking.”

“I didn’t say there was!”

“You just _spit out the food!_ ”

“It was an accident!”

“You don’t accidentally spit food out like that, Date! Augh, the one time I try and do something nice and worry about you, and you don’t even need it!”

“The eggs were too chewy, who eats eggs like that! They should have a crunch to them or something.” ( _The last time she made eggs was before Shoko’s death. They were the same style, and he liked those just fine. He usually skips breakfast or eats something other than eggs, so it’s no wonder it took him three months to find out he no longer likes Mizuki’s eggs. Stupid taste buds.)_

“Normal people, Date! Normal people like eggs that don’t taste like bricks!”

“Yeah, well how would you know what brick tastes like? Maybe you shouldn’t knock it before you try it?” 

So what if Date is speaking out of his ass at this point. Mizuki doesn’t need to know that. He’s got what little is left of his pride to protect. Not that it matters much now, because he can see the aggravated tears rising from the depths of her bitter soul itself. They do nothing but make her eyes glisten before aqua haired girl grips her fork with a newfound fervor and shovels the remaining eggs and bacon into her mouth. Sharply jumping from her seat, Mizuki slams the plate on the table cracking the porcelain object in half.

As she grabs her bag and makes her way to the door she says, “I am never wasting my time on worrying about you again. Go take your stupid car with your stupid old man face and enjoy your horrible food somewhere else. I’m staying with Ms. Sagan tonight so don’t bother me!” The door slams behind her, and the man flinches before looking to the door and sighing in relief when he finds she didn’t damage the door or the frame. Date gets up and grabs the dishes and silverware with mild clinking before depositing them in the sink. He’ll clean them later. Preferably around the same time he’ll make up with his charge, but considering her exit it will take a few days before she’s willing to sit down and talk. So maybe he’ll suck it up and do the dishes tonight. For now, he has an appointment with another kid who will hopefully be happier to see him.

**Author's Note:**

> This was the series where I was confident I was going to finish a fan-fiction for once in my life. That's still a possibility, but considering I paused on writing this only a few weeks since the game came out and its been out for a little over a year? I have no idea when or if it will continue, but I would love to finish it completely. I've still got some good ideas for it in my head somewhere


End file.
